"It is strange," said Mr. Greenough, a little impatiently, looking at Edward Lawton and not at Ray as he spoke, "it is strange, Ray, that you who are usually so careful in everything else should so often mislay, just at the moment of recitation, that which is most necessary to the success of your work. Possibly your paper may have dropped upon the floor, and some scholar has found it. If so, I trust he will be honorable enough to hand it to me before the close of school. If not, I see no other alternative: you must remain after school and perform the examples again." "Yes, sir," replied Ray. And the recitation was resumed. At the close of the school, Mr. Greenough informed Ray it would be necessary for him to remain. Daisy Lawton lingered a moment after the other scholars had gone, and came over to his side. "This is too bad, Ray!" she said. "At almost any other time," he replied, "I should not have cared about it; but as this is Friday, and Mr. Woodhull is away, it is a little annoying that I must remain." She did not care to hinder him in his work, and so left the schoolroom and went off slowly toward her home. As she reached the corner of the street on which she lived, her brother Edward was just ahead of her. He saw her, and paused a moment, as though he would wait until she came up. He changed his mind, however, and hurried on to the house. As he entered the door he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket; something white came out with it, and, caught by a current of air, it fluttered down to the walk. He went on into the house without noticing it, and Daisy, as she reached it, stooped down and picked it up. It was Ray's copy of the examples. She stood for a moment undecided what to do, then she turned and sped back toward the schoolhouse. Reaching it, she entered and hurried up to the senior room. Scarcely ten minutes had elapsed since she left, and Ray could not have performed a quarter of the examples. Hurrying over to his desk, she laid the paper before him. "I found it," she said, simply, and then colored violently, fearing she had not told the whole truth. He understood her at once, and spared her any further confession. They were alone, Mr. Greenough having requested Ray to leave the examples at his house when he went down to the wharf, and had then hurried away to meet some engagement. "Please let it remain between us that this paper was ever found," he said, gravely. And strapping up his books he accompanied her down to the street. At the gate they parted, each carrying away a heavy burden. She grieved that her only brother, whom she had believed, until recently, to be noble and manly, should be guilty of deception and theft, for she could give his act no lighter term; he, sorrowful that he should so unintentionally be the cause of another's sin. But both believed in the power of prayer, and from their hearts there went up a common cry that God would lead the offending one to the only source of permanent reform.